CH325 The Dragon, Star and Fury

***

With Helmut frozen silent, Alex turned his attention back to the stunned guard beside him.

Alex's slap hadn't been an ordinary slap.

[Death Perception]

[Dragon's Kumite: Wave Ripple]

Slap!

He raised his hand once more, delivering another precise strike that sent the peak Elite-ranked warrior sprawling to the ground, unconscious.

Death Perception had guided his strike to the weakest point in the man's jaw, while Dragon's Kumite channelled mana in a rippling wave that bypassed the guard's passive energy barrier, striking directly at the vulnerable spot.

Two controlled strikes — one to stun, the next to end it.

Once the guard hit the floor, Alex's pupils slowly reverted to their usual ruby-red hue. He calmly adjusted his jacket, brushed away nonexistent dust, and straightened his tie as though nothing had happened.

"What is the meaning of this?"

A deep, composed voice cut through the tense air –as Alex expected.

A suave, sharp-eyed young man approached with two masked guards in tow. His refined features bore a clear resemblance to Helmut, but Alex feigned ignorance.

The newcomer's presence alone quieted the murmuring crowd.

As the man stopped before him, Alex replied evenly, "Where I come from, when a dog barks at you, you don't bark back. You speak to its owner. But since the dog's owner wasn't present, I had to discipline the caretaker for failing to keep the mutt on a leash."

His tone was calm, his voice smooth — as if he had indeed just done something for the greater good of the society.

Then, as though remembering his manners, he turned to the newcomer with a faint, polite smile.

"Oh, forgive me. From your bearing, you seem a dragon among men. Might I ask who you are? I'm Alex Fury, by the way."

He extended a hand for a handshake.

The surrounding nobles froze. Even Zora could only sigh and shake her head wryly.

The young man regarded Alex's hand for a brief, weighted moment — then, to everyone's astonishment, he reached out and took it.

"Alric Wastelander," he said smoothly. "Nice to meet you."

"Alric Wastelander?" Alex repeated, feigning sudden realisation. "Of course. No wonder I thought you looked like a dragon among men. You're one of the Empire's Dragons of your generation!"

He shook Alric's hand with exaggerated enthusiasm, eyes gleaming as though meeting a childhood hero. Then he sighed dramatically.

"A dragon is a dragon. Even your presence alone makes it obvious."

The crowd stood frozen, unsure whether to laugh or gasp. The ferocity Alex had shown moments ago had completely vanished, replaced by polite excitement. But to those who listened carefully, the barbs hidden beneath his flattery were sharp enough to draw blood.

Alas, Alex had met his match.

Alric's smile didn't falter for a moment. "Don't discount yourself," he replied smoothly. "I can see you're just as vigorous as any dragon. I'm sure you'll pierce through the Dragon's Gate yourself in a few decades. With enough diligence, you might even stand among us."

The words were spoken warmly — yet every word dripped with condescension. To the untrained ear, it was encouragement; to those who understood, it was an elegant insult.

Alex's eye twitched, but his smile remained perfectly composed.

"I doubt that will happen," he replied evenly. "After all, I've been told my talent is trash. Not to mention, my humble family can't afford interplanar coordinates. Without access to a plane with better time dilation, how could I ever hope to catch up to a Dragon-seed genius like yourself? Even if I worked tirelessly for a decade and a half… I'd still be far behind."

Polite laughter rippled through the nobles nearby — those who understood the real meaning behind his words.

Alex's remark was a dagger in silk, subtly implying that Alric's current strength was less about talent and more about the extra time gained through cultivation on a plane with a faster time dilation compared to Pangea, and that was on top of the fifteen years with which Alric was older than him.

And Alric, for his part, caught the jab instantly.

The two men smiled, still clasping hands — the perfect image of courtesy. Yet beneath those smiles, the air was thick with unspoken challenge.

If one couldn't hear the venom in their words, they might have mistaken this for a friendly exchange — two fine gentlemen humbly praising each other.-

Eventually, Alric tired of the back-and-forth and released Alex's hand. He turned toward Zora, ready to speak—

But someone else stepped forward.

"You said your name was Alex Fury, correct? Earl Drake Fury's heir?"

The voice was calm yet carried unmistakable authority. When people turned toward it, the air shifted instantly.

"Prince Caesar!" someone exclaimed.

Alex's eyes flickered with sharp light.

'So this is Prince Caesar Ludevicus—the one who stopped Father from killing Earl Kellerman,' he deduced.

"We see the light of Ludevicus," Alex and the other citizens of the Virellian Empire greeted formally.

"May our light of civilisation shine far across time and the cosmos," the prince returned the greeting with the practiced ease of one born to rule.

Then his gaze settled on Alex.

It was then Alex noticed a familiar figure standing behind him—

Eleanor Ludevicus.

The Flower of the Empire met his gaze and offered a small, reassuring nod.

"Yes," Alex said evenly, "I am the Mad Earl's son."

The prince blinked, surprised. He hadn't expected Alex to use Earl Drake's infamous nickname so casually—a title originallynmeant as an insult.

Then, he laughed softly.

"The Earl was right. You are indeed an interesting one."

Turning toward Alric, he added, "Alric, I'd like to speak with him for a moment. I trust you don't mind?"

Though phrased politely, everyone present knew it wasn't a request. It was an order dressed in courtesy.

"Of course not, my Prince," Alric said smoothly, bowing before retreating.

He gave Zora a courteous nod as well, then left with Helmut in tow. His guards dragged along Helmut's unconscious protector.

The instant his back was turned, the gentle civility on Alric's face vanished. A cold gleam flickered in his eyes.

"Dispose of that useless waste," he ordered flatly. "A guard who can't even do his job and instead disgraces the Wastelander name... he doesn't deserve to live."

One of his guards bowed silently and led the man away.

Moments later, in a distant alley of the entertainment city, a short scream and then the sound of crunching bones echoed briefly—then faded into silence.

Back at the Auction Hall, Alric rejoined the crowd as though nothing had happened. Helmut, however, was nowhere to be seen. He had been taken back to their hotel by Alric's other guard.

Meanwhile, Alex walked beside Prince Caesar toward the side of the grand hall. Zora and Eleanor quietly returned to the sofa they had seated earlier.

"Does the Prince wish something of me?" Alex asked calmly.

"No, not really," Caesar replied, his tone light. "I was merely curious about you… and decided to see for myself what kind of man you are."

Alex raised a brow, faintly amused.

"You are curious about me? I can't imagine I've done anything remarkable enough to earn the attention of someone of your station."

***

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